


Wouldn't You Think My Collection's Complete?

by Crandberrycrush, Mint2Be



Category: The Little Mermaid (1989), ワンパンマン | One-Punch Man
Genre: Genos is a mermaid, Kind of loosely based on or a cross over with the Little Mermaid, M/M, this is really silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:55:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6319129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crandberrycrush/pseuds/Crandberrycrush, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mint2Be/pseuds/Mint2Be
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Genos is the Little Mermaid (kind of). Saitama is a salty fisherman (kind of). Sillyness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wouldn't You Think My Collection's Complete?

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, goodness, what have we done? o////o
> 
> So, if you didn't read our last one, Crandberry and I are co-writing these to practice our writing! (Being newbs with only one work to each of our names, we need the practice!) We're switching off and on, so one day one person will write the intro and the other writes the ending, the next day we switch! I will always be writing from Genos's perspective, she will always be writing from Saitama's!
> 
> This one I started off, she finished, so I'm editing and posting while she starts on Day 3! We're trying to combine as many of the prompts as possible :D It's a good challenge, yeah? Originally we weren't going to do the AU part of the prompt, but then we decided to just get silly with it!
> 
> We realized we really donked up and should have written a Brave Little Toaster crossover XD!!! But it was too late, this one was already written. Sorry guys!!!

Triton, King of the Sea, had always told him to be careful. The Sea could be a dangerous place, but it was what they knew, what Triton could control. The surface world, the world above, no one could save you there. It was more dangerous that the deepest, darkest cavern of the ocean. Ah, yes, Triton had always warned him, but the teenage rebellion that boiled inside Genos had always told him those were just words fathers had to say to their sons, especially when their son was one the and only heir to their kingdom. Genos couldn't see how the mysterious world above, so full of light and magic, could possibly be dangerous. His father just didn't know, he just didn't understand.

He just wanted to control Genos, like he wanted to control everything.

But he couldn't control Genos's desire.

Genos sat in his secret hide-out, a cavern on the edge of the kingdom where he kept all of his treasures that had fallen down to him from the surface. Some had floated down on their own, some had come down in wooden ships big and small. All had found their way to his secret cavern. 

Genos looked at himself in what he had deemed a “reflecting glass”, it's mystical surface and intricate handle of gold shaped into many twisting vines and flowers only slightly corroded from life under the sea. His people had a similar device, but there was something different about looking at himself in the reflecting glass from the surface world. He held it gingerly by its faded golden handle, inspecting the rigid white fin that ran along his spine to almost the end of his tail, it's strange, almost fleshy material becoming opaque between each ridge of his fins. The white faded into the pitch black scales of his tail, a tail that took the place of where the surface dweller’s walking parts were. If those scales didn't belong to himself, he felt like he could get lost in them, their darkness so black they enveloped the senses and swallowed you whole. The only safety in the depths of the scales on his tail were patterned yellow dots that seemed to glow in the light beneath the waves. Up near the bottom of his abdomen, in the transition from scale the flesh, were bands of black and white separated by thin stripes of yellow, giving the impression of a waistband that was neither flesh nor scale.

He moved the glass up his bare chest to rest on his face which looked almost foreign, he felt. Black, animalistic eyes with glowing yellow irises stared back at him from behind hair of gold. In a way, he thought he looked alluring. But in a way, he also thought he looked terrifying.

He messed with his hair a little, a fruitless effort he knew but the gesture of it felt good anyway, before returning the glass to its place of honor in his odd collection. He looked around at the oozits and whatzits, trying to solidify his resolve. He had to try, at least to say he did. He couldn't just stay down here amongst his treasures dreaming of the surface.

Not when the greatest treasure of them all was up there.

He took a deep breath to try to calm his rapidly beating heart. It was now or never. He couldn't risk the man forgetting or thinking Genos was just a dream. He had to try.

Gathering all of his courage, he made for the faded, pale light of the surface.

He knew the spot well-a fateful rock that jutted out from the ocean. It was just far enough away from the small fishing village that he could hide and spy on them, you know, for observational purposes. But it also had the advantage of being surrounded by some sharp, smaller rocks, so the fishermen of the village typically steered away from it. 

Well, all except for one of them. One of them was different. But then again, this one wasn't really a fisherman. This one didn't hunt the critters of the sea. 

The one Genos looked for, the one he longed for just sailed to feel the wind in his hair, the spray of salt water on his face. For the love of the ocean.

It was for this man that Genos decided to risk everything.

Positioning himself on the rock so he could hide his tail behind it (and slip back in quickly if need be) he propped himself up on his stomach facing the small village. He clutched a small knot of rope to his chest, trying desperately to steady his breathing.

‘I hope these feelings reach you…’

He took one last deep breath and began to sing…  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Saitama walked along the beach, the sun slowly sitting in the distance, dusk approaching fast on the horizon. His feet clung in the wet sand, the harsh wind from the ocean pushing him back towards land as if urging him to leave the sea, but Saitama stood firm, unwavered by the winds that would have cowered a lesser man. 

Although Saitama had lived most of his life on land, he felt his true home was the sea. The cresting waves lulled him towards it with a magnetic power, as if someone had tied an anchor to his ribs and cast it into the purple-blue depths. Despite his many brushes with death, the sea always called him back to it, and he heeded the call each time. 

The white linen shirt draped loosely around Saitama’s defined chest. Hardened by the harsh sun and salt of the sea, his skin was more akin to leather now. His shoes were gone, lost in the crash, his pants ripped below the knee. Someone had saved him. He remembered that day, when he had tested his mettle against the sea king Triton and lost. 

That day the skiff had taken him farther out than he had meant it, the tides pulling him off into deeper waters than he had sailed before. Skies pulled ominous clouds over his head and the rain pelted him like bullets. Although he was strong Saitama was no match for the waves which rocked his boat mercilessly, breaking his ores and shaking the old mended beams that held the small boat together. He knew he would soon be lost, his bones cast into the crypt of the sea. Saitama looked up into the tumultuous storm and cursed at God. Then he wept while the rain kissed his cheeks, as he resigned himself to the idea of his death. 

The storm hit the boat capsizing it. Saitama used all his strength to right himself, but after treading water for hours between the waves sleep began to take him over. He felt himself sinking into the dark blue that surrounded him. 

Then he felt soft arms around him, lifting him, carrying him towards a faint blue-white light. He was saved.

All that he could remember from the strange savior was golden hair and a voice. Such a beautiful voice, singing a song that still echoed in his head. A haunting melody that made him remember with reverence and shame his own frail mortality. 

His boat was gone now. He could no longer explore the sea and so instead he worked on the docks each day. At dusk he walked the beach, looking for the voice again, searching for the melody that held the heart of the sea within it and his heart as well. He hoped that he would be lucky enough one day to hear it again. 

Smiling at the memory of the voice, Saitama knelt down in the sand cupping some into his hand and letting it run back out through his rough fingers. The sun was just a sliver of a glowing orb above the waves, night had come at last. 

Then he heard it, faint at first but building slowly. Something pulled within his heart. He turned and started to walk into the gently crashing waves, up from his ankles to his knees, until his hips shivered in the icy water. He had to find the voice, he had to understand what the words meant. It was an unfamiliar tongue that he longed to learn. Saitama continued his descent into the waves, until the water met his chest and he was forced to start to swim. 

The water was ice cold and it chilled him to the bone, his legs and arms becoming numb as he continued on between the rocks and towards the orange horizon. Saitama had already risked his life once what was another time for him? He had known since he was young his true love was the sea, not the land onto which he was born. His parents were long gone, no one would miss the poor man lost in the waves. Saitama would not be the first to be wooed and killed by the sea. 

The melody became louder it echoed between the rocks, almost like a chorus instead of a single voice. Waves crashed into the cliffs, foaming the sea around them. Saitama held onto the rock and looked wildly about searching for the mysterious singer he knew had to be close-by. The night had turned from orange to navy, with the sun gone and the moon hovering above him full with the weight of evening. Saitama’s teeth began to shake, his body was so numb he did not notice the cuts against his arms as he clung still to the rock searching in the darkness for the voice. 

Then as suddenly as it began the melody stopped. Saitama’s ears rang with the silence. 

“Wait! P-p-please don’t go! I h-have searched for you so long, please do not leave me! I-I-I love you!” 

Saitama cried out into the blackness that engulfed him. He cried out to the sea in hopes that he had not been forsaken. Forgetting his grip on the rock he let go, his limbs too tired and numb to hold his ground. He began to slip under the surface once again….

Once again, gentle arms wrapped around him from behind and brought him back above the waves. Gentle lips kissed the back of his neck, whispering into his ear. 

“Don’t worry my love, I promise I will never let you part from me again...”

**Author's Note:**

> We're just going to let you choose what happens next ;)
> 
>  
> 
> Also for anyone who's curious, I based Genos's fish parts off of this little guy: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mailed_butterflyfish 
> 
> I thought he was cute and very Genos-y :3
> 
> As always please let us know what you guys think!! We love hearing from you!!! <3


End file.
